


missed calls

by novoaa1



Category: Teenage Bounty Hunters
Genre: Angst, Episode: s01e10 Something Sour Patch, F/F, Season/Series 01 Spoilers, a slightly different take on what's said during the bench scene in 1x10, otherwise everything else goes just as the episode says
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:35:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25965988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novoaa1/pseuds/novoaa1
Summary: “And I… I wantyou." (The truth of it burns coming off her tongue.) “But that… that wasn’t okay, April.” She feels like a pouting child as she says it, her flushed cheeks wet with salty tears—still, it doesn’t make it any less true. “You understand that, right?”“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”Sterling feels herself let out a derisive scoff. “Yes, you did.”“Sterling—"“I can’t be here right now.”
Relationships: Sterling Wesley/April Stevens
Comments: 14
Kudos: 277





	missed calls

**Author's Note:**

> uhhhhh

“I’m not ready to come out yet,” April admits. Her voice is thick with emotion, and her pretty green eyes are stained pink beneath a sheen of tears—and yet somehow, she manages to deliver this devastating blow with just as much conciseness as she does literally everything else. 

If Sterling didn’t know her any better (which she’s growing increasingly less convinced that she does), she might think her unaffected; aloof as ever, completely unruffled in the face of what’s happening right now. 

Which, to be clear, is one of the worst pains Sterling’s ever known in her entire life. _That’s_ what’s happening right now. 

Heartbreak—unadulterated and raw. It plunges its clawed hand deep inside her chest, encases her bleeding heart in fingers cold as ice; squeezing, squeezing, _squeezing_ until her lungs are heaving and her ribs ache with the strain of it and it feels utterly impossible to get a breath of fresh air that’ll make her feel like she isn’t drowning any more.

“That’s not what I care about,” Sterling chokes out, feeling fat tears dribble down upon trembling hands clasped tightly in her lap. “I wish you’d just _told_ me that instead of… whatever that was with Luke.” 

She hates the raw pain and vulnerability laid bare in her voice, the hot tears streaming uncontrollably down her face. She hates even more that she’s no match for it, that she can _feel_ it consuming her, turning her positively molten from the inside out with a desperation she can taste like acid on her tongue. 

She doesn’t expect April to offer up a defense for it, and some tiny piece of her is grateful when she doesn’t. 

“It hurt, April, okay?” she continues in a voice caught halfway between a wail and a sob. She resents it profoundly. (And yet, there's some fundamental part of her finds an undeniable measure of catharsis in conveying her emotions so brazenly—in letting her grief consume her.) “It fucking _hurt_. I let you get close—gave you the power to hurt me, and you… " she trails off aimlessly, turning her gaze skyward and huffing out a shaky breath. “ _Fuck_.”

April is quiet for a long time. Eventually, she whispers, “I’m sorry, Sterling. I… I still want you.”

“And I… I want _you_." (The truth of it burns coming off her tongue.) “But that… that wasn’t okay, April.” She feels like a pouting child as she says it, her flushed cheeks wet with salty tears—still, it doesn’t make it any less true. “You understand that, right?”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Sterling feels herself let out a derisive scoff. “Yes, you did.”

“Sterling—"

“I can’t be here right now.” She stands abruptly from the bench, wiping hastily at her tear-stained cheeks with trembling hands. “I… I need to go.”

She feels more than sees April follow her lead, rising hastily to her feet and turning the full force of that teary doe-eyed gaze upon her (the very same one Sterling knows will fucking _shatter_ her if she chances a look). 

“I’ll drive you,” she offers meekly. (April Stevens may be a great many things—competitive, obnoxious, painfully endearing—but not ‘meek.’ _Never_ ‘meek.’)

“No.” Sterling shakes her head vigorously, speed-walking a couple paces down the sidewalk in a desperate bid for more distance between the two of them. (Every step feels like another bullet tearing through her flesh.) “I’ll be fine.”

“Sterling!"

She breaks into a jog down the sidewalk, feeling a renewed surge of tears burn her eyes as the pressure in her lungs rises from painful to damn near unbearable.

She doesn’t stop, though. 

She won’t let herself. 

— — 

A sorely mistreated iPhone sits amidst dirt and gravel in the triangular gore area of the freeway. 

After a minute, its cracked screen is set alight with the most recent in a slew of notifications. 

**9:03pm**   
**from: April** ❤️   
_At least text me to let me know_  
 _you’re home safe… Please_.

**9:02pm**  
 **from: B** 🤪   
_(17) Missed Calls_

**9:01pm**  
 **from: B** 🤪   
_We’re really fucking worried, Sterl_

**9:00pm**   
**from: Mom**   
_(10) Missed Calls_

Sterling isn’t there to see them. 

— —

**Author's Note:**

> i tried writing more dude i DID but idk 
> 
> this is what we ended up with
> 
> (my [tumblr](https://psyches.co.vu/) or just search me up @ultralightdumbass to come talk to me there!)


End file.
